


If I Ever Plan Another Fake Suicide

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Conversations, Fix-It, M/M, Post-Episode: s04e03 The Final Problem, Season/Series 04 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 02:56:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9414869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Sherlock?”“Do you..” he really didn’t know how to phrase this. “Want me here?”





	

Sherlock knew things had changed, that they were irreparable, that they couldn’t go back to how they were, but he guessed that was okay. It was so much better than the alternative that he had been so terrified of, that everything ever was ruined, that there really wasn’t a point to any of it.

Rosie had finally fallen asleep in the cot they’d laid out in 221B Baker Street. John Watson was back with him, living with him, so Sherlock didn’t have any reason to complain. Except for he was having a lot of trouble blocking his childhood out of his mind. And he still felt the grief of, even indirectly, causing Mary’s death.

But most of all he still felt the hands on his face, the inability to breathe. The gun by his mouth and fear. His ribs hurt. 

“Ahem.. Sherlock, are you okay?” John asked. Sherlock snapped out of his thoughts. He wasn’t quite sure how to answer John, though. He knew the correct answer was, “ _ yes _ ,” but it didn’t quite come out of his mouth. “Sherlock?”

“Do you..” he really didn’t know how to phrase this. “Want me here?” He scanned John’s face. Anger? Guilt? No, perplexity. Probably? John was confused.

“I’m the one who moved back in, Sherlock,” John said. Sherlock didn’t get how John could miss what he was saying so much. It was really quite simple, even if Sherlock couldn’t be as specific as he wanted. The conclusion John came to could’ve easily been ruled out.

“Not in this apartment. I’m not an idiot; I know that,” Sherlock retorted. He was still awfully confused about how to go about this. Why was he even bothering? He had been ignoring it well enough so far. Maybe he was trying to fix something. 

“You’re going to have to be more clear than, I’m afraid,” John said. He was being very patient. “Let’s take it to another room, though. I don’t want to wake Rosie.” Sherlock nodded, and they went to the living room. John sat down, and Sherlock cautiously followed suit. There was a newspaper at John’s foot, and Sherlock was pretty certain John wanted to get this over with, whatever Sherlock was trying to say, to read it, or possibly scan it for anything interesting for a case. “So, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Sherlock responded. “I’m just  _ uncertain _ .”

“That I want you here?” John still looked confused, at least Sherlock things it’s confusion. His eyebrows are drawn together, and that’s usually a sign of John being confused, and considering he was asking for clarification, yes, he was confused. Though the thought process to get to this conclusion was rapid, Sherlock realised how much out of his depth he was here.

“Not specifically. More... complex. It’s ridiculous; I don’t know why I brought it up,” Sherlock replied. Change the subject, yes. That was what he needed to do. “Did you hear about...”

“Thank you,” John said at the same time. “For letting Rosie and me stay here.”

“No need to thank me. Baker Street is always your home.”

“So what do you mean then? ‘ _ Do you want me here _ ?’” John asked. Sherlock squeezed his eyes shut. God, why did he even have to bring it up? He already knew the answer enough. He was just... hesitant because of the last time he’d miscalculated this, how much devastation that had left.

“I was going to die the way I was going, that was clear. Molly clarified that to you, too.”

“Yes, but you’re not. You’re still sober, right?”

“Yes. My point is, you told me as much, John. You weren’t going to save me, not until your dead wife expected you to.”

“And I, I regret that Sherlock. I do want to be the person she thought I was,” John responded. His voice was catching. Sherlock was slightly nervous; he didn’t want to make John angry again, open up this wound. He didn’t want John to think he killed Mary again. He didn’t want John to hate him.

So what the fuck was he doing?

“I know things won’t be the same...” Sherlock said, and wow he had gotten worse and disconnecting from his emotions. Maybe that’s why he couldn’t just hide this like usual. He was scared. But it’s true. Sherlock didn’t think anything could  _ fix _ the fact that this had happened, and that he had deserved it.

John letting him deteriorate. His fist and his shoes. Hating Sherlock for his deductions, no admiration, just loathing, probably just reminders of the death Sherlock had caused. 

Sherlock’s gun by Sherlock’s mouth. Ready to pull the trigger, counting down. 

“Sherlock, I’m sorry. I do want to be here. I want Rosie to be here. I was just so  _ stubborn _ ,” he said. And angry.

“That’s not what I’m asking!” Sherlock’s irritated now. 

“Then you’re going to need to be more clear,” John said. “I really am, sorry. For it all.”

“I guess I just need to know if I ever plan another fake suicide!” Sherlock snapped. John’s face moved, his expression changed. Sherlock did something wrong. He was too abrupt. He guessed he didn’t think it through enough. He messed up. Again.

“Need to know what.” John was terse. He was angry. Sherlock was scared; he made a mistake; he wanted to abort.

“It’s... nothing.”

“You bring up...  _ that _ and then expect to change the subject?”

“I just mean... would you give a damn?”  _ If I died _ . 

“Would I give a damn if... oh my god you complete  _ idiot _ ,” John exclaimed. Sherlock scrunched up his face. 

“I know, the evidence is clear, but last time I miscalculated...”

“Sherlock, you’re my best friend,” John said. He looked like he was putting a lot of effort into what he said next. “You make me happier than anyone else ever has.” He looked at Sherlock, who probably looked shocked. “Are you seriously trying to ask me if I would care if you died?”

“I’m not going to,” Sherlock said. “Die. I’m not going to.”

“You really didn’t know... Sherlock it would  _ devastate  _ me. It did. How could you be that stupid?”

“Do you need me to elaborate on the evidence?” Sherlock asked. John didn’t respond, so Sherlock bludgeoned on. “You wanted to cut ties with me, cut me out of your life. Didn’t care how out of it I was or if I would die clearly, you didn’t do anything about it. You... beat me badly in that condition, then only came to save me when you felt the responsibility, guilt, essentially. After leaving your cane, a symbol you were done with me. You didn’t care when I was, in the action, about to kill myself, just about to pull the trigger right in front of you. How am I stupid for thinking anything  _ else _ ,” Sherlock explained, all in a rush, without time for John to interject. Oh god, Sherlock felt tears prick at the back of his eyes. He was a  _ mess _ . Mary, Eurus, relapsing, it was all messing him up horribly so. He needed to get it back together  _ fast _ .

“I...” John seemed speechless. “Should I leave? I should leave, shouldn’t I?”

“No,” Sherlock said weakly. That was the last thing he wanted.

“Sherlock, there are other  _ explanations _ for your deductions. 

“I’ve thought it through thoroughly. There isn’t any explanation.”  _ I don’t understand _ .

“I can’t talk about this. The, the last part though. I didn’t think...” John’s emotions were choking him up now too. “I thought it was a plan. A way to get out of killing me or your brother. I didn’t think...” Suddenly another expression came over John’s face. Sherlock thought it was shock. “You’re not suicidal, are you?” Sherlock couldn’t respond for a minute. He felt frozen.

“I... no.”

“Were you?” Nothing. “Sherlock?”

“No.” It even sounded like a lie coming from his mouth. “Yes, but I was terrified to die. I didn’t really want it.” Sherlock wished he could take the words back immediately. He didn’t even know how he was being so articulate. He could see the responses going through John’s head. He wished he could elaborate. He could just see John thinking  _ then Mary would’ve died for nothing, you selfish prick _ . But Sherlock had made sure he wouldn’t die if it were not to help save John. He made sure that he wasn’t going to die without his life meaning something for Mary.

“That, um. That must’ve been very scary for you,” John acknowledged. “Thinking you were seconds away from death. Relying on some wanker to get his head out of his arse.”

“It’s not of importance. But I guess it’s good then, that I didn’t,” Sherlock said. 

“To be clear, I’m sorry. For all of that. And I do want you to  _ be here _ ,” John assured. 

“Even if I won’t stop deducing everything or getting impossible when under-stimulated or...”  _ Like a cock. _

“Yeah, I still think you’re brilliant," John interrupted. It’s unexpected, and Sherlock leant forward and catched John’s hand. He let go instantly afterwards, when he realised what he’d done, whispering an apology. His face felt warm. This was all so  _ embarrassing _ . “We should probably check your email for potential cases,” John said, changing the subjecting. Sherlock saw him smiling, and it lit up warmth in his chest.

“Yes, but they’ve all been so  _ boring _ lately,” Sherlock said. He didn’t want to mention that he felt more emotionally involved in them which was making it more difficult, instead of just being an intense stimulant of pressure to solve. In that moment though, he was just so happy that it was him and John again, the two of them against the world. And against the baby, though that was probably a case they weren’t going to win.

John saw Sherlock beaming, and he was smiling big too.

“You’re such an  _ idiot _ , Sherlock,” he said. Sherlock decided to take extreme offense to that. “I swear, you can tell exactly where I’m going to be in two weeks time and guess at my actions, yet you can’t tell if I care if you’re alive?”

“Shut up.” John was smiling, though. 

“How about this one? Case of the shrinking head...”

**Author's Note:**

> shhh Sherlock just really wants John to love him and hold his hand


End file.
